Shot In The Dark
by ImpalaGal67
Summary: Hutch is hurt but Starsky's there.


**Shot In The Dark**

By ImpalaGal67

Description: Hurt Hutch but he's not alone.

 _~If I could just see you, everything will be alright._ _~ Storm by Lifehouse_

The sound of a gunshot reverberated through the night air and Starsky froze. For a split second, he froze and then five years of training and in-field experience took over. Crouching low and pulling his Smith & Wesson free from it's holster, he made his way down the alley. Reaching the end, he paused, took a quick breath and peered around the corner.

"Police! Freeze!"

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Hutch walked leisurely back from the pizza place. It was Friday night and the place was packed. The whole damn street was packed. A whined "Oh, man!" was Starsky's response to the crowd, around the front of the pizza place, the crammed parking lot and the car-lined sidewalk with absolutely no more parking spaces and Hutch just rolled his eyes, because what else do you do when your best friend whines about something trivial that neither of you can fix?

"Fine," he said to Starsky's unspoken plea and got out of the car. He ducked to look in the window as he closed the finely polished and "way too red" in his opinion door. "Why don't you park over there? I'll get the pizza and we'll go back to my place."

"How 'bout my place?" Starsky raised his eyebrows.

"What's wrong with my place?"

"Hey, we can watch movies at my place."

"And I got a chess board." Like that more than made up for no tv set. He'd tripped over the wire in his hurry to do a quick in-and-out of his apartment two weeks back and effectively shorted out the plug. Hadn't had time to fix it. Hadn't been in a hurry to fix it because that meant more time to fiddle around with his guitar and read that stack of books that was piled up by the side of his bed.

"Yeah and plants. Come on, Hutch. Please?" Starsky pleaded. Yeah, ok, it was whining but he knew that he'd never be able to hold out against his best friend but he really preferred to watch movies on his day off. They rarely got Friday nights off and staring at each other as they munched on pizza what not his idea of relaxing on a Friday night.

"Ok, fine."

Starsky grinned a small triumphant grin as his friend walked away and drove down the street and into the alley. Shutting off the engine, he stepped out of the car, stretched and leaned against the front. Staring up at the night sky and the stars, he breathed in deeply wishing for a moment, just a small moment that he was somewhere outdoorsy. Wait. What was he thinking? He liked the city. The music, the sights, the smells, the sounds, the people, the food….yeah, he smiled, especially the food. His mouth watered in anticipation of the pizza, the gooey, cheesy, meaty, saucy, greasy pizza. His stomach grumbled and he rubbed it absently deciding that it was time to change his train of though.

Hutch stood in line waiting to place his order. A line that was way too long for his liking. If they'd gone back to his place, he could've make something healthy to eat but he sighed. One pizza wasn't going to kill him.

Twenty minutes later, he was paying the sixteen-ish looking girl who blushed at his smile as she handed him his change and awkwardly stuttered out a "Thank you. Have a nice day." Hutch's blue eyes twinkled as he said good night and then he was out making his way down the sidewalk, across the street and towards the alley.

He wrinkled his nose at the cheesy smell that wafted up from the thin cardboard box in his hands. He tried to be disgusted at the smell. He really did. This stuff was bad for you. Salad. That was good. Fruits and protein shakes and - man, this smelled really good.

He was in the middle of trying to balance the box in one hand and open it with the other - I mean, maybe he could take a quick bite because it really did smell good.

"Don't move!" a shakey voice said behind him and something hard was jammed a little too hard into his back. That was going to leave a bruise, he thought with a wince. "Hand over your money."

"Easy there. Ok?" He raised his hands and also the pizza in the air. The smell heroine was unmistakable. "I'm going to lower my hand and reach into my pocket," he said in a voice far calmer than he felt. If someone was hopped up on junk, they were far less predictable and far more dangerous and it wasn't a good idea to make any sudden moves.

He slowly lowered his hand and the gun went off. A blinding white hot fire sensation pierced his back throwing him forward. The overload of pain was too much, his legs crumpled and he collapsed to the ground. He felt hands shakily groping his pockets, heard the panicky breaths and hoped he didn't pass out. He thought of Starsky somewhere not too far away.

"Starsk," it was nothing more than a breathy whisper. _Hurry up, Starsky_ , he prayed silently.

"Police! Freeze!"

His vision was beginning to go black around the edges, but he smiled weakly. That was the voice of an angel, a seriously pissed off, really concerned and maybe just a bit scared angel, but it was his angel.

Footsteps. Running maybe? And then there was mumbling he couldn't quite make out and hands fumbling over his head, his back, lifting his jacket and he knew he would be ok. The pain was excruciating and he was losing his grasp on consciousness, wanted to be somewhere where it didn't hurt anymore. He could feel the warmth of his blood flowing down his back and around his side. His life essence spilling out, he thought morbidly, all over the dirty sidewalk and _Oh Shit!_ onto the pizza. He was lying on the pizza. Starsky's greasy pizza. Starsky was going to be pissed. Starsky was going to be sad. He was going to give those hurt puppy eyes and...the thought slowly faded.

"Hey, hey, Hutch! Stay with me! Open your eyes." Starsky reached down and slapped the side of his friend's face. His heart beat jumping up a notch when Hutch's eyes drifted closed. This was too much blood, he thought pressing his hands over the wound, which caused Hutch to gasp and jerk away from the unexpected burst of pain now blossoming across his back.

"Hey! I need help here! An officer's been shot!" Starsky yelled to anyone who could hear but it was too noisy down the street and of course everyone else would pick _now_ to _not_ be outside and within helping range because they couldn't catch a freakin' break. Asshole was going to pay for shooting his partner, Starsky thought grimly and he got a good look at the perp.

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The last hour had been a blur. Starsky had run to the torino, radioing for help and stayed by his partner until the EMT's had arrived and literally pushed him out of the way. But he'd moved around them and grabbed a hold of Hutch's hand and hadn't let go until the nurses at the hospital had forced them apart as Hutch was taken past the doors marked "Emergency Personnel Only."

He scrubbed a hand down his face, cobalt blue eyes filled with worry and glanced up at the doors to the waiting area for the umpteenth time.

Hutch had been in so much pain, but his "Starsk, I'm sorry. Didn't mean… sorry" albeit broken, breathless and pain filled had confused him.

"S'ok, buddy." Starsky had said gently. There in the ambulance as it sped for the hospital with his partner bleeding and in pain and so pale…and he squeezed his best friend's hand, his eyes tearing up as he looked down at their intertwined hands covered in blood. "Wasn't your fault."

"Family for Mr. Hutchinson."

And Starsky had jumped up and nearly ran toward the doctor. "Hutch is my partner. How is he?"

The doctor smiled sympathetically. "We successfully removed the bullet and barring any complications he should be fine."

Starsky let out a breath that he didn't know he'd been holding. "Can I see him?"

The doctor nodded, "he's being taken to the ICU right now and in a few hours he'll be moved to a regular room." He gestured towards the door and began walking with Starsky at his side. "He's still under the anesthesia and but should be coming out of that soon. He'll also be on painkillers. So, don't expect too much of a conversation. He needs his rest." The doctor said pointedly. Starsky nodded. This was almost getting to be routine with them. By now they'd both memorized the do's and don't's of hospital policy.

Walking into the ICU room, Starsky's heart dropped. Hutch was so pale, but he was going to be fine, he reminded himself. And suddenly he needed to feel for himself. He walked forward pulling a chair up close to the side of the bed and rested his hand on his friend's arm. His other hand reached out and rested on top of Hutch's chest right over his heart and Starsky lowered his head in relief at what he could see, feel and hear for himself. _There had been so much blood._ The slow and steady rise and fall of the chest - Hutch was breathing. The steady beep of the heart monitors meant that his heart was beating. Starsky moved his left hand from over Hutch's arm and slid it easily into his hand. His right hand moved from over Hutch's chest and gently pushed the too long blond bangs away from his forehead.

"Hey," he said quietly as the fingers weakly squeezed his hands.

Hutch fought through the fog and the meds and broke through the surface grasping onto consciousness for a brief moment. He tried unsuccessfully to blink the grogginess from his eyes. Everything was muffled.

"Hey," he whispered back too weak, too tired for anything more than a whisper. "Sorry about the pizza," and then he was pulled under. His eyes fell shut and his breathing evened out.

And then everything clicked into place. Hutch apologizing in the ambulance. He snorted softly in exasperation as he shook his head. "You big Blond Blintz," he whispered affectionately. "Didn't come barreling around the corner with a gun in my hand for a pizza."

And Starsky knew that everything would be alright. He would be here when his friend woke up.

 _~And I will get lost into your eyes. I know everything will be alright.~ Storm by Lifehouse_


End file.
